


In His Favourite Sundress

by RogerTaylorCanRawMe



Series: Queen One-Shots [5]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, F/M, Oral Sex, Sleep Groping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:58:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogerTaylorCanRawMe/pseuds/RogerTaylorCanRawMe
Summary: Roger takes forever getting ready, so you decide to take a nap wearing Roger's favourite dress with no underwear on underneath.





	In His Favourite Sundress

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't updated my current WIP - I'm just working on one-shots until I get inspired again!

Roger hummed away as he emerged from the bathroom, a cloud of searing heat seeped its way into the bedroom, meeting the fresh evening air. It billowed in through the door to the balcony, making him shiver, still clad in just a towel.

He had taken so long to get ready for dinner that you decided on a siesta while you waited. You were so exhausted that you didn’t care if your dress got wrinkled. Your eyes drooped closed as soon as your head hit the pillow.

It was Roger’s favourite dress. Not daring by any stretch of the imagination, but he always found a way to make even the most ordinary item of clothing absolutely filthy. The red, floaty sundress sat a couple of inches above your knee. And if, say, Roger stood at the right angle, he could easily slip a hand underneath it, completely undetected. That was why it was his favourite dress. It was also why he insisted you make things even easier for him by forgoing underwear when you wore it in his company.

He didn’t need to tell you anymore.

He smirked when he noticed you lying face down. You had a habit of shifting around while you slept, and somehow, your dress had bunched up around your waist and hips. Upon realising, he threw aside the jeans in his hands and crawled into bed next to you. You didn’t stir like he hoped you would.

The pair of you had an agreement that it was okay, but Roger could help but feel a sense of unease as he stretched out his hand to stroke the back of your thigh; gently caressing your skin from the underside of your knee, all the way to your bottom, fingers pressing into your flesh. He bit his lip, wanting to delve lower. It felt perverse. You had no idea what he was doing. But you had an agreement.

He sighed, gently running his fingers between your legs, relishing how soft and warm you were.

You felt it and, despite still being shrouded in an exhausted haze, immediately knew what was happening. You feared that Roger might bottle it if he knew you were awake. Instead, you lay still, allowing him to continue stroking you. Face down, eyes closed.

And then he stopped.

You listened intently, trying to figure out what was happening.

The sheets shuffled, and the bed rose and fell. Then you heard the soft, quiet sound of skin gliding over skin. It started off slow, but it soon sped up. Roger’s breathing grew heavier, cursing. The image of what he was doing right beside you was so vivid in your mind that it set you ablaze with need. But you couldn’t ‘wake up.’ Not when that whole fantasy of yours hinged on you being passive and unknowing.

Instead, you bit your lip, silently hoping Roger would bite the bullet and give you what you wanted.

He groaned, tilting his head back against the bedhead. His hand simply wasn’t enough. “Fuck it.”

He was finally going to do it, and it sent a wave of giddy excitement through you, straight to your core.

Roger clamoured over you, getting into position, pawing away between your legs once again. You could hear him chuckle to himself as he realised just how soaked you were. It didn’t cross his mind that you knew this was happening. The tip of his cock replaced his fingers, trailing between your lips, making it slick with your arousal. The teasing was fast becoming too much for you to bear.

He took his time, edging his cock further inside you, carefully stretching you, so as not to arouse your suspicions. Finally, he bottomed out with a hoarse groan. He felt absolutely delicious, squeezed inside you like this, the position of your thighs made you even tighter around him. You could sense that he wasn’t going to last long as his breathing hitched, pulling slowly out of you. Back and forth in slow, purposeful strokes. That fire in your belly grew wildly out of control as he tortured you. You wondered how long he could keep this up before he finally lost control and pounded you into the mattress. That’s where you allowed your thoughts to trail off to, getting lost in how good he felt.

True to your prediction, his movements gathered momentum. You could tell he was in no mood to care about whether you were awake or asleep anymore. His hands gripped your hips to steady himself, pumping away with abandon, his skin slapping against yours.

You couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore. Stretching out your arms like a lazy feline in front of you, you gave a satisfied moan, clawing at the sheets, arching your back against him, angling yourself so that his cock hit your sweet spot with every thrust.

“Nice of you to join me, darling,” Roger sighed.

You cursed, pressing your face into the mattress.

“I’m so close. Do you want me to stop just now?”

“No. Keep going. Come inside me.”

He needed no more encouragement from you.

When he finished, he rolled off of you, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell softly.

You stayed where you were, on your front, turning your head to glare at Roger.

He caught you out of the corner of his eye. “What? I thought you didn’t mind?”

“But what about me?” You pouted. You weren’t just reminding him of your needs. You demanded he address them.

Roger turned on to his side, circling his fingers over the small of your back, making you squirm. “What was it that you wanted again, my love.”

“I want to finish,” you prodded.

He leaned in closer to you, delving his hand lower again. You were still wet, aided by his seed dripping from you. He slipped two of his fingers inside you. “Is that what you want?”

You bit your lip, nodding sheepishly as Roger’s hand got to work in place of his cock.

His lips were close to your ear. His breathing quickened again, enjoying this as much as you were. He particularly loved the lewd sounds you would make as he fucked you with his fingers, adding another. It made you mewl desperately against the pillow, grinding your hips on to his hand.

“Turn over,” Roger ordered, “I want to look at you in that pretty dress, darling.”

Turning on to your back, Roger took his place between your thighs, diving down, to focus his attention on pressing sloppy feverish kisses against your skin. The fingers on his free hand were trained solely on your centre, working away inside you, with his thumb drawing haphazard circles around your clit. His eyes were half-lidded, looking up to admire you rolling your hips to match his efforts.

Even he could tell your movements were becoming stilted as he brought you closer to the edge. “Are you going to come for me, my love?” He taunted, drowsily leaning his head against your thigh with a smirk.

“Yes,” you gasped. Your hand searched in desperation for something to cling on to. And then the fire inside you was doused. Put out cold.

“No you’re not,” Roger stated, eyeing you. No longer was he focused on giving you pleasure. Rather, he wanted to draw it out for as long as possible. His fingers moved slowly but firmly. Barely enough to pull a frustrated groan from your lips. “You’re going to come when I say you can.”

You whined in response. If Roger wasn’t going to give you what you wanted, you would have to do it yourself. Or at least that was what you thought, reaching down to finish yourself off.

Roger swatted your hand away. “Now, now, darling. You know how much I like hearing you beg.”

Falling into line, you pleaded, choking out a feeble, breathless, ‘please.’ It was everything you could try to make all of Roger’s teasing count; rocking your hips, clenching yourself around his fingers.

He chuckled and made sure you were watching his next move. “Please, what?” he purred, poking out his tongue to give it a single, fleeting swirl over where you wanted him most. He wanted you to think he was giving in. You almost believed it.

“Please stop teasing me, Roger. I need that mouth of yours.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, shaking his head. His voice sent another chill through you.Finally. Finally, his tongue delved between your folds, gently pulling them between his lips.

You had expected to come undone straight away, but Roger was having none of that. He took care and time. Savouring you. Enjoying every single lap of your soft, wet core. Gradually ratcheting up the pressure building inside you until you were incoherent. Unable to beg or plead. All you could do when Roger finally focused all his efforts on your clit was tug at his hair and mewl impatiently for more.

He stopped as soon as he felt your body begin to succumb, replacing his mouth with his thumb. “Remember you need to ask first,” he scolded.

You were still moving with his fingers inside you. Mind fogged, eyes closed. Still cursing his name.

“I’m going to stop if you don’t use your words, my love.” He took his hand away, illustrating his point.

Your hands immediately reached down to resume Roger’s work. “Please,” you began, “Roger, please make me come, I’m begging!”

Roger palmed at his cock, looking down at you, writhing away at your own touch. “Come here, my love,” he said, sitting beside you on the bed, his hand working over his thick, veined shaft. “I want to watch you come on my cock.”

You huffed. You were so exhausted that even moving to straddle Roger made you feel like your bones were on fire. It didn’t help that your dress clung uncomfortably to your skin thanks to Roger working you into a sweat.

Roger bit his lip, bunching your dress up around your hips as you sank down on to him, letting him fill you again. A low groan caught in Roger’s throat. There was no easing into this. Instead, Roger set a blistering pace, thrusting up into you as your fingers danced over your clit. “Good girl,” he sighed. “Let me see you come for me. God, you look so beautiful in that dress. You’re my good girl aren’t you?”

His coaxing was all you needed. It hurled you right over the edge. Head thrown back, eyes closed. Intense and incapacitating, it completely drained you. You couldn’t even sit up straight when it subsided.

Instead, you chose to cling to Roger, nestling your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne to soothe yourself. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and, still inside you, rocked away gently.

“We’re not going anywhere now, are we?” You sighed.

Roger laughed, sending a rattle through both of your bodies. Then, stroking the back of your neck, he pressed his nose to yours. He feigned disappointment. “I’d been looking forward to seeing you out in that dress again.”

 


End file.
